


Headstrong

by rubyliam



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-01-31 18:34:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12687870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubyliam/pseuds/rubyliam
Summary: After the war ends and is won by the good side, Yrene is too stubborn to rest while helping to heal injured people.





	Headstrong

A month after the war.

One months after the day Aelin Ashryver Galathynius and Dorian Havilliard connected hands and joined their powers to forge the gate. To push every Valg back to their land--locked in for eternity. Maeve was going to go back with them, with the many Stygian spiders who squealed as they were locked in a prison. She would've gone back, if Rowan had not punctured the iron sword through her, while a Fire-wielder fae burned her from the inside out.

Aelin did not wake up, nor the man who was by her side. They slept for days, weeks. No healer knew when they would awake. Rowan barely left the room Aelin was in, sleeping more than being awake and alert. His wife and mate’s exhaustion led to his own, and he only fell into the grasp of sleep when Yrene Towers demanded so.

Yrene, who has been helping every wounded person since the war ended. Yrene, who hasn't gotten a blink of sleep herself. Yrene, who was too stubborn to realize that she was sick and growing weaker by the minute.

Chaol could tell from their bond that connected them together. He could tell because of the cane that he had to ask someone to retrieve as the day was halfway over. There was a minor ache in his legs, and he knew why the pain was happening, always remembered from when Hafiza had told both of them that her power acted as a brace for his injuries. When she was weak, so was he.

So he tried to find her. Chaol tried, and failed, many times. But if his wife was sick, then he wouldn’t give up.

Finally, thirty minutes later, he found her walking slowly back to the infirmary with a box of medical supplies balanced in her arms. “Lady Westfall,” he called, “I think it's time for you to have a break.”

Yrene stopped, rolling her eyes vaguely at the name. She did so, even though Chaol didn’t stop calling her it.

Almost a year after they married, and Chaol still couldn’t get over the fact that Yrene was his wife. He didn't think he would ever do so.

“I’m perfectly fine,” her voice sounded drained, tired, and hoarse. She sniffed, rubbing against her freckle-covered nose and took another step as Chaol approached her. “I don't need a break.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“ _Yes,_ ” Yrene laughed, but it was humorless. “Let me do my job.”

But as she walked away, there was a limp to her own step that made Chaol doubt his wife was really okay.

+++

“Lord Westfall!”

Chaol looked up from where he looked over a document, the job of doing so after they won the war going to him, since his best friend and king was still in a coma. A nurse stood in his doorway, brows held together in worry and eyes wide. “Your wife has fainted, sir,” she said.

He knew it. Chaol had felt the feeling in his legs go away and an ache replace them about ten minutes ago. He wanted to go check on her, but it was so painful that he couldn't. Though when the maid had informed him again, it brought even more concern. Chaol moved away from the desk, dropping the paper on it and wheeling out the door. 

Earlier, Chaol had warned her about using too much of her power. He had already known she would weaken even more, felt it through the loss of feeling in his legs. She was so gods-damned headstrong and selfless that she didn't listen to him. Now, she had to experience the outcomes.

The maid led him to their bedrooms, where he trailed inside and found his wife laying on their bed, a wet compress against her forehead. She looked to him, a light smile on her lips, and her eyes blinked slowly as Chaol moved closer to the bed.

“I warned you that you should’ve rested, Lady.” Chaol said, lifting his hand to wrap it around hers. “Perhaps, listening could’ve been the option you chose?”

“I have to help,” a nurse that stood by the side of the bed took the cloth from Yrene’s head, wet it with the warm water, and laid it back to her forehead. Then, she quietly left. “The wound in Lysandra’s abdomen is slowly healing. Aedion still sits next to her infirmary bed with guilt hanging on his shoulders. I’m trying to help him relieve of that, too.” Yrene sighed, “He helped me here, when I fainted.”

“You don’t have to help until you fall unconscious, Yrene. I’m pretty sure everyone understands, given the help you've given already.” Chaol put his hands to the bed, eyeing the space he could lay next to his wife, and slowly moved to do so. “I’m glad you are alright.”

Yrene leaned against Chaol, his arm dropping around her body to hold her tight to him. He pressed a kiss to her head, and fell asleep next to her, both of them gaining back their strength together.


End file.
